


The Great Gray Beyond

by Anonymous



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: F/M, If he can be a seal don't be mad at me for mpreg, M/M, Men are terrible lmao, Mpreg, Selkies, dubcon, power and control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-06 14:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11038470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Mythological AU: Lestat, a French hunter, falls for a selkie he captures. But how to tame a wild thing?





	1. Chapter 1

As the seventh-born son, Lestat had no claim to lands or money, and he traveled far and wide through France and Prussia, to the great wide sea at Malaga and then the Hellespont and the Balkans for seven years until he found himself in Bretagne, where the wild Atlantic crashed upon the rocks near the little house he built.

He hunted the land, joining his companion David on wild chases to bring down boar and horse, and set traps for rabbits, whose pelts he sold in the town.

He had learned to fish in Thessaloniki, where a woman called Eleni taught him, capturing his heart in the process. She had declined to return to France with him: she would not swap the turquoise of the Mediterranean for the rough lands of Bretagne.

And Lestat loved Bretagne. Its coarseness appealed to him. He spent the long summer nights walking the coast, while gulls swooped and dived over the restless bay of Biscay.

It was on one such night, when the moon was fat in the sky above, casting a pathway of silver across the dark waves, that he came upon them. Their melodic voices carried up to him, snatched by the wind.

He crouched low in the sand dunes and watched the figures before him; a handful of people - three women, two men, laughed and cavorted in the surf. A little fire popped and crackled, casting chiaroscuro shadows on the group, who were all naked, though a pile of grey and brown furs rested nearby.

One of them, a young man with red curling hair, played a light tune on a flute, and they danced with him, laughing wildly, an olive-skinned woman with dark hair and eyes, more beautiful than any he had ever seen, catching him about the waist and kissing him, before he was pulled into the arms of another man with ashy hair and stunning violet eyes which glimmered in the firelight.

“Mon Dieu,” sighed Lestat. “Such beauty--”

To his horror, the entire company whipped their heads in his direction. He sat up, startled. But before he could utter a word of apology or explanation, they had each gathered up a fur in their hands and pulled them over their feet, up their waists, their torsos.

"Wait!” said Lestat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

The words died in his throat, for he was no longer looking at humans, but seals, who watched him with baleful eyes before diving from the rocks into the Atlantic, and then disappeared amidst the waves.

Lestat blinked, and then slid down from the dunes and ran over to the little fire, which was dying slowly in the cold night air. “A hallucination,” he decided, looking about the sands. “I just heard seal cries…” he whispered uncertainly, and then crouched low, touching his fingers to the sand and staring with wonder at the human footprints there. 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“I know it’s nonsense,” said Lestat, wiping the wine from his lips. “But I had not been drinking, David. No opium, nothing. I thought I must be tired, but I wasn’t really. I’d not done much hunting that day. And there were footprints, David. _There were footprints in the sand_.’

 His companion shrugged. “I believe you.”

 Lestat scowled, looking around the tavern moodily. “You always readily believe such things. I expected more from an _Anglais_.”

 “But you saw them,” said David reasonably.

 “Yes,” he conceded.

 “They know of them in Ireland,” said David. “They have a name for them. They are selkies, and they are bewitching in their beauty. A good friend of mine _knew_ one.”

 “How did he know one?” said Lestat, with a scornful flick of his hand. “Did he lay in wait at a seal colony? Did he talk to them of the weather?”

 David smiled. “Not all of them are _born_ a selkie. The sea takes whom she takes. A handsome youth, a drowned girl -- some of them are chosen.”

 “And how did your friend prosper with his selkie?”

 David glanced down at his glass, and swished the wine in it thoughtfully. He was silent for some time. Then, “He didn’t. It drowned him.”

 “What -- why?”

 He shrugged. “To escape him  -- you know, it was funny -- it said it loved him, but ... they have a human soul, but they are wild for the sea. You can’t tame them, not really.”

 “I love wild things,” said Lestat. “Surely they would recognize that?”

 “They are as shy as seals -- no, more shy. They will never permit you to come near.”

 Lestat leaned back in his seat and regarded David crossly. “Then how did your friend know one? Liar!”

 David gave him a tolerant look. “Why, he caught it.”

 “What?”

 “If you catch one, it will be yours forever.”

 Lestat bit his lip, then leaned in closer. “How do I catch one?”

 “You saw them dancing, yes? And you said you saw their skins…”

 “That I did,” he said, nodding firmly.

 “Then you should try and get close, and hide their skin. They can't return to the sea without it.”

 “I’ll just burn it.”

 “No!” said David heatedly. "Only do that if you want to kill it - the selkie will die if the fur is destroyed."

"Maybe I will!" said Lestat belligerently.

David didn't take the bait. He merely shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"Ah, I'm not going to do that," said Lestat, waving his hand dismissively.

“What _will_ you do with one if you catch it?”

“I don’t know,” said Lestat. “Examine it, maybe. Keep it.” He took another swig of his drink. “How dare they be so beautiful, and have no master? It’s not the order of things.”

“It’s exactly the order of things,” said David, but Lestat gave him a surly look, and so he said no more.

 

* * *

 

 

The hunter kept his jealous vigil at the shore for several nights, but the selkies did not reappear until the moon was big and fat, casting her _clair_ across the waters again.

Three of the creatures came ashore in a cacophony of dumb animal grunts and yelps, and rent the air with their cries for what seemed an age, before the smallest of them ambled further towards the clearing of rocks where they had danced last time, and with a graceful turn and slip, the savage red-haired youth with the beautiful brown eyes let his fur fall from him. He raised his head, sniffed the air, and then set about gathering driftwood.

Lestat sat up, measuring the distance between himself and the selkie. Out of necessity, he had moved downwind so that they could not smell him. There was no way he could run across the sands faster than these nymphs could slip into their furs and flee. He felt blindly for the arrow and bow at his side, and brought them closer.

The other selkies followed their leader, and presently the beautiful olive-skinned woman stood naked and ravishing there. Lestat hesitated: he had decided on the gorgeous red-haired youth, but the woman was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

And then the third creature followed behind her, and Lestat quite forgot about the other two.

This man appeared older than the red-haired one, and taller, with a sinuous sensuality to his movements. He stepped into the moonlight, which fairly cast a glow around his black hair, and when his eyes were caught in that same light, and glowed green, his face enmeshed in shadows which struck his angular cheekbones and softened his pleasing features, Lestat’s decision was made right there and then.

He notched an arrow to his bow with stealthy quietness, aimed it at the foot of the black-haired selkie, and fired.


End file.
